


Friday Night (TGIF)

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Jock Strap [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Scott, Dubious Consent, First Full Moon, Jock Stiles, M/M, Nerd Scott, Sciles, Smut, Stiles says no Scott doesn't listen, TW Season 1 AU, Teen Wolf AU, Top!Stiles, Topping from the Bottom, minor original character death, some violence and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott was told to stay away from Stiles, but there's no way he's missing the party of the year and the boy with the wicked smile. It's just bad luck it happens to be a full moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Night (TGIF)

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by Loz's amazing AU [here](http://lozenger8.tumblr.com/post/88246964021/initially-written-for-mating-games-but-i-messed) and [here](http://lozenger8.tumblr.com/post/88264026251/tofixtheshadows-replied-to-your-post-initially). We just couldn't resist playing in her world! What would it be like if Stiles didn't grow up with the boy who taught him how to be kind and Scott didn't have anyone who believed in him so hard he learned to believe in himself?

Lydia went all out.

She always did. A party had to reach a certain level of spectacular to be associated with the Lydia Martin stamp of approval. The police were running themselves ragged with a new string of murders. They’d found half a body in the woods a few days ago, and only recently come across the rest of it. Laura Hale. Sister of Derek Hale. The deaths that followed had been no less gruesome. 

Stiles googled more thoroughly than he’d willingly admit. Their story was the stuff tragedies were made of, tucked into places that Stiles didn’t have legal access to. His dad’s file cabinet was one of those places. He asked his dad if there were any wild animal sightings in the woods, or if the local hunters had turned anything up. It was a familiar question by now. He’d been asking since Scott had come home, too pale and too quiet. 

The police didn’t have the time to hunt down potentially rabid, dangerous carnivores. They wouldn’t have time to break up a high school party, even one as lavish as Lydia’s.

A Lydia Martin extravaganza attracted everyone who was anyone, and then some. Her mansion seemed to be rocking on its foundation. There was no shortage of things to see, from the pool to the gardens, to the inconspicuously unlocked rooms on the second floor.

Stiles spent all his time nursing a beer in the foyer, trying not to pace. People were late to parties all the time. He and Scott hadn’t set a date or anything. No big. He had no reason to worry.

It was a good thing he didn’t (shouldn’t) believe in werewolves. The moon was full.

___

The moon pulled his veins like a tide, sending blood rushing against his skin in a fevered flush. Derek had warned that he shouldn’t go out on tonight of all nights, that they had to stick together but he’d made a promise. His already heightened senses were cranked up so high that Scott could barely keep his fractured thoughts together, mind chasing after stray streaks of color and scents. Scott flexed his hands, feeling like the claws were going to break through the skin at any moment. He felt fucking _amazing_.

The wolf snapped and howled inside, filling Scott with a sense of power like he’d never felt before. He could definitely get used to this. All his fear was gone, replaced with a sleek animal confidence that he was a predator in a flock of unsuspecting prey. The boy knocked on the door, greeting his hostess with a smile and a swagger that caused Lydia to raise her eyebrows in surprise. He was going to have to mark that one if only to see Jackson’s face when he showed Lydia what an actual lacrosse star was like. Bonus if he could get Jackson to watch while he systematically took everything his rival cared about. Sly thoughts of revenge slid through his head, foreign and confusing as he stopped for a moment to try and sort through them. That wasn’t…it wasn’t…

He was distracted, catching the scent of something infinitely more desirable. He stalked through the crowd, ignoring everyone as he honed in on his target and slid his hands around Stiles’s waist from behind. “You’re standing here all alone like no one wants to dance with you, dude. That’s kind of sad, we can’t have that.”

___

Scott fucking McCall, Stiles felt like he’d been saying that a lot lately. He turned, just far enough that he could kiss Scott over his shoulder. There was something different about this, sharper, more insistent, and Stiles thought it was all him. Scott was so good at pushing back.

"You saying you dance, dude?" He snorted, twisting in Scott’s grip, groping him unapologetically. He tipped his bottle against Scott’s lips, watching him swallow. He barely glanced over his shoulder, before he leaned forward, kissing down Scott’s neck. He looked good. He looked so fucking good, and Stiles didn’t know how he’d gone so long without it.

"Hi." Stiles greeted, distractedly. Scott was turning heads that night, and if Stiles wasn’t so distracted, he’d have noticed sooner. That just made touching Scott better. "You’re hot. Really friggin hot."

Scott had an audience now, at least for tonight, the same way Jackson Whittemore could draw attention by just walking into a room. Not all of it was good.

___

Scott licked the alcohol from his lips, tipping his head back with a quiet groan. “Am I? You’re not so bad yourself, Stiles.” The boy grinned wickedly, dark eyes full of terrible ideas. “Why, don’t you dance?” He hooked his fingers into Stiles’s belt hoops, dragging him away from the wall and out into the middle of the room. He could feel eyes on him, baiting the trap and waiting like the patient hunter. It was almost like he could somehow  _feel_ their rage and their jealousy, the heightened emotions getting under his skin. He’d been warned to keep away and here he was, co-captain and flaunting every success.

The boy swayed his body against Stiles, pleased with the scene as he ran his hands up into the back of his boyfriend’s hair. He leaned in close, whispered voice more like a growl than anything. “You should fuck me here while they watch.” Scott pressed wet kisses against Stiles’s ear, rolling the lobe carefully between his teeth. “I’d do anything you asked me to.  _Anything_.”

Make them all watch.

___

Stiles choked on his want, a strangled moan drowned out by a pulsating beat. He swore everyone would see him shiver. He didn’t care. He loved it when Scott was aggressive. They pushed and pulled at each other so viciously, it left Stiles’ head spinning at best. This - this was a whole different level. Stiles didn’t know what had gotten into Scott. Scott didn’t dance. Scott could barely reach for another pack of nerds without falling over himself, but he did things, he did such fucking amazing things Stiles didn’t know if he had the strength to complain.

"Should fuck you here," he repeated, tilting his head back. Submission never felt so good. What the  _hell_ was Scott on? Where could Stiles get some? “Bend you over, show them how you look when you’re begging for me. Make you ride me. Right in the middle of the room, right-“

There was a reason Duncan was one of their best defenders. His tackles wrecked. He barreled into Stiles from behind, sending a sharp jab of pain that Stiles really wouldn’t feel until the morning. It toppled them towards Lydia’s very impressive, very cold indoor pool.

Scott was very good at making a scene.

___

For all his heightened senses, Scott had let himself be thoroughly distracted by the boy in his arms and whispered words that made his eyes darken with need. He wasn’t sure if he was just tempting Stiles or if he really would be willing to drag his boyfriend down and ride him shamelessly in front of everyone from school. Honestly, he didn’t trust himself not to go through with it, somehow it just seemed like such a fucking brilliant idea right now when all of his nerves were screaming for some kind of release he didn’t understand. He flailed as he was shoved backwards, hitting the water with a gasp and struggling back up to the surface.

Scott saw red. Literal red, the world took on a different shade as rage swept through him. Stiles was forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the laughing boy and his friends, and the threat of a baseball bat shoved between his legs. He hauled himself out of the pool more easily than he should have, glaring at Duncan as he dripped and lips curling back into a snarl that seemed almost fanged. “You want an audience this time, Duncan? I thought you and your little friend only liked to come at me when we were alone. Doesn’t your pathetic little master prefer the private parties?”

Scott’s grin widened dangerously as he taunted them, goading the boys forward like he didn’t care how many Jackson had managed to rally to his cause. The only disappointment was the dick himself didn’t fight his own battles. Scott moved in a sudden burst of energy, fingers closing around Gellar’s throat and lifting the taller boy off his feet with just one hand. He threw the struggling body across the room, the sound of crunching bone audible even over the music. “Come on, Duncan, I owe you one. Unless you can’t get it up with all these people around.”

___

"Thought you needed to cool off, McCall!" Stiles heard, words weaved between laughter. He was still pulling himself out of the pool, losing a shoe in the process. He was always quick to anger, and quicker still to retaliate. His boyfriend gave him pause. Scott sounded furious. Duncan and Gellar - Stiles should have known. Jackson could bum a kidney of them if he was feeling so inclined.

Duncan’s stance brimmed with arrogance, driven by jealousy and loosened with alcohol. “Warned you,” he whispered under his breath, like he didn’t care they were in a room full of people, or that Lydia’s fashionable heels clicked faster and faster as she approached. “Should’ve learned the first time.”

Then Gellar crashed. He didn’t get up. Stiles couldn’t believe his eyes. The ruckus around them told him no one could either. “Stop.” Lydia ordered, tone pointed and heavy with an unspoken threat. She barely spared Stiles a glance, for all that he was meeting the party’s drowned rat quota. “Get out. All of you.”

Duncan would never be able to speak of the fear that tinged his anger.

___

Scott curled his hands into fists, never taking his eyes off of Duncan. “We’re not done. Watch your back, Duncan.” He snarled, stalking passed him and slamming his shoulder into his rival hard enough to knock him back. It didn’t matter, he’d made his point though something inside crackled and sparked for more. There was too many people here anyways, it was too hot and he could barely breathe. Scott needed to get out where there was enough air.

He shoved people out of the way, careless and dripping as he stumbled out through the door and to the relative quiet of the empty street. No one was out here, everyone who was anyone was already inside. Scott winced, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple and feeling like sharped nails scraped hard along the inside of his skull. His heart was beating too fast…it was too fast…

The boy winced again, doubling over in pain though Duncan and Gellar never laid a hand on him. It hurt! Oh god, it felt like he was being torn into pieces. He groaned, fisting his hands into his hair. “No…no no no, please no.”

___

_Come here._

It started as a quiet thing, slipping through Scott’s mind with the grace of a serpent, but where it latched on, it wouldn’t leave. It pulled, taking everything attached to it with it, dragging through Scott’s body until muscle spasmed and bones cracked. It demanded more and more, no longer a whispered demand but a growing howl, so loud that it was almost impossible to separate from the one that ripped through the night.

 _RUN_.

Lydia’s party was shaping up to be the most exciting one she’d ever thrown.

"He’s not getting up," Someone said, hovering over the injured teen, but no one was actually touching Gellar. That had been the only thing keeping Stiles from charging after Scott, the way people had swarmed because of it, the way their hostess’s brows furrowed and Jackson looked vicious. Duncan was the worst. Fear made him reckless, and alcohol made him stupider. Someone asked to call an ambulance. Lydia was born to command armies. Stiles didn’t stop her. He just made a beeline for her slut.

Stiles caught Jackson unawares, returning the favor he’d offered so many of Scott’s friends in the past. He punched him hard enough to bruise his pretty face. Someone screamed at them. They scuffled, and Stiles spat in his face. “How could you?!” he demanded, and it didn’t matter that Jackson was the better fighter, or that he’d eventually win. Stiles had to know. By the time someone had pulled him and Jackson apart, the ambulance was on its way and Scott was long gone. No one noticed Duncan leave, angry and vengeful. No one would have tried to stop him.

Someone should have.

"Good boy." Much, much later, an oily, venomous voice applauded as a strong grip curled over Scott’s bare shoulder. Blood red eyes flashed approval. Peter Hale congratulated the werewolf as he sat in the middle of what used to be Louise Duncan. There were too many pieces of him to count. He’d been scattered across the woods. Scott wore his blood like a badge. 

"We’ll take care of it. Good, good boy."

___

Awareness crept back slowly, his thoughts still sluggish and muddled. His hands were wet, skin slick and red and covered with things he didn’t recognize. His bare skin was painted with it and Scott stared at the blood in confusion, touching his chest and leaving smears behind. The scent of meat and blood and perforated guts assailed him, catching in the back of his throat. He didn’t understand what he was looking at, brain refusing to put the pieces together or he’d never be able to stop screaming.

Scott shivered under the praise, something in him preening. The boy looked up, eyes glowing a bright blue as he searched the stranger’s face. Not a stranger, a part of him recognized something in the man, though Scott was sure he’d never seen him before.  _Alpha._  Just the presence calmed him and he had to stop himself from nuzzling against Peter’s wrist like an animal. Derek had said-, what had Derek said? Something about the alpha wanting him to kill together as a rite of passage to be part of his pack. He didn’t know what that meant before, but  _this_ …he felt connected. He wasn’t alone anymore, he belonged and it grounded him. The animal that thrashed in his head was soothed, feeling safe with…with  _pack_? These thoughts and feelings didn’t make any sense.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott thought he should be horrified but he couldn’t seem to stop the bone deep satisfaction. A tentative smile pulled at the corner of his blood stained mouth as he nodded at his alpha and Peter returned the smile coldly. The boy had been an impulse, a pretty broken thing left vulnerable in the woods and just begging to be shaped into something more. Peter couldn’t help himself from poisoning everything beautiful, fascinated by how innocence could be twisted into something terrible. He needed a pack and the power it would bring him, the boy was an added bonus.

“I know what he did to you.” Peter murmured, running a clawed hand lightly over the back of Scott’s neck. “You’re stronger now, you’re not alone anymore.  No one is ever going to hurt you again.”  _You’re mine._  Scott gave a strangled whimper, unsure if the thoughts in his mind were his own.

“Go home, get clean, sleep. I’m very proud of you.”

Scott nodded, t-that sounded like a good idea. He s-should go home now.  “Thank you.”

Peter smiled.

___

The voices wouldn’t stop, not his own, but so apt at striking storms through his already troubled mind. They buzzed like a swarm of wasps, sinking into bite, chipping away the young wolf’s mind until there was a space for them, wrapped in the broken pieces of Scott’s doubt. You’re safe. He’ll never hurt you. He would hurt take  _steal_  everyone everything. You’re STRONG. You’re mine.

You’re mine.

Beacon Hills slept peacefully, unaware of the monster it shared its streets with. They wouldn’t find traces of Duncan for another week, and by then, the animals would have had their way with their meal by then. There was no one to see Scott, no one to judge him. The silence was deafening, but the suburbs turned a blind eye as he crept back into his house, like a common thief. There was just someone in his bed.

Stiles had spread out, claiming every inch of the mattress like he was want to do without a pillow fort to deter him, or Scott to hold onto. His dress coat and pants thrown over Scott’s chair, left limp where chlorinated water had wreaked havoc on it. Clumsy bandages were wrapped around Stiles’ knuckles, speckled with blood, and obviously fixed without assistance. The smell of alcohol still clung to his skin, and the end of the world might not have woken him. 

He still buried his face in Scott’s sheets, clinging to what he could smell of his partner, to what comfort he could find. If Scott ever saw his phone, he’d see dozens upon dozens of texts and calls. Stiles had been so close to calling the police. If something happened to Scott, he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for failing to do so.

Stiles understood, or he thought he did. The damage Duncan and Gellar had dared spoke for itself. So Stiles could understand if Scott didn’t pick up his phone. He just really wanted him to.

The voices never went away.

___

It took a minute for Scott to recognize the figure sprawled across his bed like he owned it, too distracted by their his own thoughts. He’d completely forgotten about Stiles, the night was a blur and his mind was full of images he didn’t understand. There was no panic, just a calm sense that things were going to be okay and that everything that had happened was just  _right_. Scott didn’t fight it, he want to. That certainty was a comfort, making him feel powerful and in control for once.

Scott should shower, he needed to get cleaned up. The blood was still tacky across his chest and quickly drying. He left the sleeping boy, creeping into the bathroom to scrub the worst of it from his skin with a damp towel. He was glad Duncan was gone, he’d been a threat and Scott knew it was only a matter of time before he’d try to hurt him again. Duncan could have killed him before with that bat and probably wouldn’t have cared. He could have died alone in the woods and no one would have found him until it was too late. Ironic.

Peering into the mirror, Scott watched his eyes glow blue and smiled even though he didn’t understand the change.  _He_  had been proud, that man, the alpha. Scott wasn’t sure why he’d been so afraid of him, accepting his place in the pack was the right thing to do and he could feel the new connection binding him to his creator. It whispered through the back of his mind, a bleeding poison that infected every thought. Derek hadn’t wanted him to accept this, maybe Derek was afraid of how strong it would make him. Good, it should make him afraid.

Scott left the bloody towel slung carelessly across the bathtub, stalking through the early morning light that spilled through his blinds and scattered across the floor. He crawled across the bed with a smile, ready to just start taking what he wanted. It felt good to give in and stop hesitating, no one could hurt him ever again. “Did you get lost on your way home or are you this desperate for me?”

___

Stiles struggled to fight sleep, rolling over clumsily, drool already dried on his jaw. He waded through bleariness, before hooking an arm around Scott’s neck and tugging him down, leaving no room for argument. He held on as tightly as he could, a strangled little whimper ripping through his throat as he buried his face in Scott’s neck. There was a lingering, metallic scent over Scott, sharper than sweat and skin and boy. Stiles didn’t care. He kissed over it, eyes still caked with sleep.

"Dude, you’re back." He didn’t recognize the relief that coursed through him, the start of a hangover already winking at him. He’d been genuinely scared for his boyfriend’s safety. He’d been scared he’d find him in a hospital again, right next to Geller, but this time with more than his back bruised and face wrecked. 

"Where’d you go Jesus you’re back." He shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t need to know. He knew enough. He knew the sons of bitches who had to pay. His hands ached. Stiles wouldn’t be playing lacrosse any time soon, but he only wished he’d been able to do more damage to Jackson before he’d been pulled off. He still lost his best friend.

___

“Of course I’m back, I live here.” Scott said with a chuckle like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he enjoyed being fussed over. He kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, cuddling down next to him to get comfortable. “Sorry, I just had to figure a few things out. I took care of it though, it’s a good now. It’s kinda  _great_ , actually. Everything makes sense.”  _Mine_. The feeling echoed through him and Scott smiled, his animal pleased to belong. Wolves needed a pack, he had no idea how stressed and alone he’d been without one. Derek shouldn’t have tried to keep this from him, his alpha had only been looking out for him.

“No more being Mr. Avoidy, I’m back and you can’t get rid of me.” Screw the warnings, he felt more in control now than he had from any of Derek’s lame ‘be the anger’ pep talks. “I’m sorry I made you worry.” It was sweet that Stiles had been so worried, he’d spent the night waiting for him. Scott slid his hands down the boy’s body, carefully taking the bandaged hand and bringing it to his lips. “What did you do? You’re not supposed to get hurt!”

___

Stiles whined, low in his throat, eager for more attention. Scott’s voice was a cooling salve, sliding over his touch starved skin, before Stiles could drag him down, forcing Scott against him. He was a familiar weight on top of him, comforting in his consistency. He kissed Scott everywhere he could reach without actually moving, brushing his lips along the sensitive curve of his boyfriend’s throat. He nipped at the juncture of neck and shoulder. 

"Don’t leave again dumbass," Stiles scolded. He stretched over their linked hands to smack Scott with a kiss before flopping back, surrendering to his hangover. "Jackson’s a dick." He insisted with feeling. His hand shook a little in Scott’s grip, still healing. "He deserved it."

He gently scratched down Scott’s spine, sighing with shameless contentment. It felt good everywhere. He was sorry Scott had to go through anything. He was sorrier still that it took so long and so much for Stiles to realize how much his mate was worth. “You were so cool last night, dude. Geller’s a piece of shit. I wanted… Catch up with you.”

___

Scott laughed, bearing his throat and moving to better straddle the boy’s hips. “I promise I won’t go anywhere. Jackson  _is_  a dick, I hope you clocked him hard. Next time I see him, maybe I’ll pay him back for what he did to your poor knuckles.” His back bowed under Stiles’s nails with a groan.  “Jackson and I definitely need to have a talk.”

He leaned down, licking Stiles’s bottom lip before kissing him, drawing it out to hear all the little noises he could steal from the other boy. “I was cool because I broke Geller’s neck? Did I break his neck? It wouldn’t be that much of a loss after what he and Duncan did.” The wolf bit Stiles’s lip hard to feel him jump, grinning into his human’s skin. “They beat me with a baseball bat, you know. Tied my hands behind my back so I couldn’t defend myself. Duncan threatened to rape me with it.” It didn’t matter now if he admitted what happened, there wasn’t any reason to be afraid.  _They can’t hurt you_. No one could hurt him anymore.

“It’s okay that you can’t catch up, everything’s okay now.” His smile grew sly as his hands roamed beneath Stiles’s shirt. “Or are you saying I was cool because I wanted to ride you in the middle of Lydia Martin’s house while everyone watched?”

___

This was wrong. This wasn’t Scott. Scott would never say anything like that. Scott would never sound so brutal. But they hurt Scott. They could have killed him. The boy Stiles knew was never so cruel. His assailants deserved cruelty. He believed that. They should have been arrested. They should have been hunted. Stiles couldn’t think when Scott touched him like that. Maybe he didn’t know Scott as well as he thought. He gasped into the werewolf’s mouth like he wanted to give him everything. Stiles tasted blood on his lips and demanded more with his tongue.

"Yesss…" He rasped, arching his back, anything for a little more contact, for another chance to touch Scott. Geller hadn’t woken up. That was all Stiles knew, and already more than he cared to. "Fuck them," he hissed, gripping Scott’s hips. He spread his legs, leaving Scott room for anything, for everything he wanted. "You’re okay you’re mine-!"

Let them watch. Let the whole world watch. Who the Hell taught Scott to move like  _that_? “Fuck, Scott, how’re you so hot?”

Everything’s okay now. Stiles wanted to believe it.

___

Stiles offered and Scott was so willing to take everything and more. He wanted to tear Stiles apart, to make him writhe.  _You’re mine. You’re mine_. He shivered at the words, bowing his head a moment as he felt them echo around his skull. “Mine…” He murmured, rolling his hips like he was riding him through Stiles’s pants. Fingers twisted into the boy’s hair, yanking back his head so Scott could scrape  sharp teeth down his throat. He misjudged his strength, beads of blood welling from shallow cuts along the skin. Careful, careful.

Scott had been a good boy, his alpha had been proud of him. This was his reward. He sat back, grinding down and demanding his human respond to the rhythm of his body. “Tell me what you want, Stiles. Do you want me to ride you so hard you wake up the neighbors or do you want me to fuck you face down into mattress until you cry.” The wolf growled in satisfaction, eyes flashing as he hooked one clawed finger into the neck of Stiles’s shirt and shredded it into pieces.

___

Stiles groaned like he’d been punched, arching his back as he scrambled to maintain contact. His voice twisted in a wretched groan. He couldn’t tell if he was suffering pleasure or savoring pain. Blood trickled down his throat, and Stiles’ jumped pulse and frayed. This was wrong. This was different. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Scott moved his hips and ripped his shirt off, and Stiles groaned. He was so hard he felt like he was going to burst.

"Scott - Scott!" He gasped, swallowing down a whimper as his cock strained against the front of his jeans. His knees buckled, and Stiles didn’t know what to do. "What? What’re you-"

He pushed at Scott’s chest, the grip in his hair beginning to hurt. “Slow down,” he hissed, blinking through the lust that clouded his vision. He could taste blood on his tongue, and he didn’t know where it came from. “Slow. Down.”

___

“Shut  _up_!” The boy snarled, voice distorted and barely human. “I can smell how much you want me. Don’t fight.” Scott kissed him, sucking the taste of blood from the human’s tongue. “I’m yours…” He murmured the words into Stiles’s mouth, but he wasn’t sure who he was answering. He could see Stiles’s body respond like he’d never noticed before. The pulse beat strong and fast beneath the human’s neck, he reeked of arousal, the way he shifted and sweat gathered right along his hairline, how could he have missed all of this?

He didn’t want slow or safe, he wanted,  _needed_  release. Scott reached towards the nightstand, clumsily searching for the lube before snagging the tube with a hiss of success. His hands moved lower, fighting his human’s jeans lower to free Stiles’s cock and Scott hesitated as he reached for it, lips parted hungrily. Claws? He shook his hand, confused, squeezing his fingers into a fist and shaking it again. His hands shifted to human blunt fingers and he grinned at Stiles in success as he messily squirted lube into his palm and stroked his boyfriend’s cock with an unapologetically tight fist.

___

Stiles pushed back, shoving at his partner’s middle, and he couldn’t understand why Scott didn’t budge. He didn’t know where the strength came from, or how Scott could yield it so loftily. He’d said  _stop._  That was supposed to mean something. That was - this was insane. Stiles must have been overreacting or something like that. Except he was scared. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Scott’s eyes weren’t supposed to be blue. His mouth wasn’t supposed to be so rough. Stiles wasn’t quite willing to accept that.

"Scott!" He hissed, biting at his boyfriend’s mouth. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. It felt like Stiles saw too much and not enough. But Scott held him, and his nerves jumped. A strangled, embarrassed whine escaped him, and Stiles spread his legs further. It was so tight, so wet. He couldn’t keep his hips from bucking upwards, eager for more friction, for more anything. He bared his neck, drying blood caked across his clavicle.

He dragged his nails down his partner’s back, leaving white lines in his wake. “Scott…”

___

The way Stiles said his name tightened low in his body and he moaned. Scott didn’t seem to realize that the human said no, everything about his body so clearly wanted him and he could give Stiles exactly what he craved.  _Mine. Mine. Ours_. He was dizzy, confused about what were his own thoughts, what was the snarling  beat inside his veins and what were echoes from someone else’s voice in the back of his mind.

“Don’t fight me.”  _You couldn’t win anyways._  Scott shifted his hips with a wicked smile, twisting his grip and teasing the head of Stiles’s cock against the cleft of his ass. “I know you want this, I can give you want you want.” He rocked his hips, denying his partner the friction he wanted before guiding the head of Stiles’s cock to his entrance and sinking down. He gasped, closing his eyes as he was filled, hot and thick and just  _this_  close to painful. Scott lifted himself, swaying his body as he rode against the human with a shameless groan. “Fuck…Stiles…” The wolf leaned back, bracing his arms behind himself on Stiles’s legs and fucked himself against the other boy.

___

Stiles couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. Something like a protest caught on his tongue, his grip on Scott’s body threatening to draw blood, but how could he deny this? How could anyone deny this? Scott looked at him like he could eat him hurt him love him. He looked like sin and temptation, and felt even better. He’d told Scott to stop. He had no reason to be scared. He was. He loved him so much. Stiles leaked cum across his taut ass. He reached lower, and squeezed, and his entire body rocked with anticipation. 

Scott sank down on him, and Stiles sobbed. He was hot, unbearably hot, clenching all around his cock like a tight, wet glove. Stiles bucked wildly, moaning so loud the neighbors must have heard. He couldn’t look away, cheeks flushed pink and mouth slicked red where Scott bit it raw. Scott’s cock drooled between them, dripping and bouncing with every vicious thrust. His pace was brutal, the most sensual torture, and Stiles fucked into him with abandon. He reached up, stroked down Scott’s chest. He teased his nipples until they were puffy and aching, before dragging his boyfriend down to kiss him. It was filthy and eager, frantic like Stiles could never remember being. He stroked Scott’s cock, tight and fast the best way he knew how.

Scott could do anything to him. Stiles didn’t have a choice.

___

Scott’s body twitched and jerked, knees tightening around Stiles as his sensitive nipples were teased. He gave a broken moan as he momentarily lost his rhythm, clenching as his muscles shook. He could probably come from this alone, sharp spikes of pleasure racing through every hypersensitive nerve. It was so hard, so deep, the air caught in Scott’s lungs as he bounced on Stiles’s cock until he felt like screaming. Precum spattered across Stiles’s stomach, the head of his dick red and shiny slick. He should be doing this, he needed to stop and needed to never stop. He wanted it to hurt, he needed to wreck this human and make Stiles his. A reward, a gift. Obedience had its perks.

He attacked Stiles’s mouth, desperately groaning into him. Eyes lit with a cold blue glow as he smiled a monster’s smile, fangs long and dangerous as he dragged them across the human’s skin. Stiles was fragile, it would just take the slightest press to carve through the skin like he’d done with Duncan. It would be so easy to break him apart. Just the touch of claws twisting inside and ah-! Scott arched back with a cry, body shaking as he came in hot spurts across the human’s chest and neck. His frantic pace slowed, circling his hips slowly as he bowed his head, eyes flickering and fading back to brown. He laughed, voice breaking and edged in hysteria.

___

Scott was so good at wrecking him. Stiles lost himself in the slick slick slide of skin, the suffocating heat that enveloped him. Scott ran hot. Stiles didn’t know how he missed it before. Scott crashed down on him, moving so quick, so fast, he stole his breath away. He pounded into Scott, scrambling to keep up, needing more and more and more. Scott bore down on him and Stiles yelped, eyes falling shut as he howled into parted lips. He cut himself on fangs, and didn’t care. Stiles couldn’t hold on, and letting go felt so good it hurt. His climax hit him hard, tearing through his nerves. Pleasure undulated through his senses. He shot his load, streaking Scott with cum.

He caught Scott around the waist, pulling them as close together as they could possibly get. Stiles didn’t know where he found the strength, but he rolled them over, trapping Scott beneath him. His body trembled. Stiles kissed him like he’d never get the chance again. 

He never wanted to hear Scott laugh like that again.

Stiles surrendered, collapsing on top of his boyfriend, dull aches settling with him. His heart was trying to explode, and Stiles didn’t know what he’d done. He just wanted Scott. He felt so tired. “I love you,” he muttered, not opening his eyes. The previous night’s fears came crashing down, and Scott was good for him. Scott was  _good_  to him. “Don’t freak out. I love you.”

___

The smile faded from Scott’s lips as he looked up at Stiles, shock etched into the lines of his face. “You love me?” He asked like he was surprised anyone could. The cruelty was gone from his hands as he cupped the other boy’s face, tracing carefully down Stiles’s cheek. Stiles  _loved_  him? Stiles was smart and funny and popular, everything he wasn’t. He was so hot that it left Scott giddy whenever Stiles gave him that wide-mouthed smile and set him dancing alone in his room when he couldn’t keep the excitement inside any longer. He was the name scribbled along the spine of Scott’s math notebook, the password on his computer (all the passwords on his computer), and the daydreams that got him yelled at in chemistry class. Scott wasn’t sure what any of this really was, he’d never dated before and it all seemed to happen so fast, but he was happy with it. He was supposed to be the lovesick puppy, he never thought…

The dark haired boy seemed so unsure, the feral confidence replaced with shy wonder. “You love me.”  _I love you too! I’ve got it so bad, you don’t even know. You just look at me and you actually see who I am, no one else has ever done that. It’s embarrassing how much I love you_.

There was blood trapped beneath his finger nails and Scott jerked his hands away, feeling like he was going to be sick. Oh my god, what had he done? Broken images, half remembered flashes, a feeling of power that he enjoyed more than he should have and hands stained red. He had liked it, the alpha had been proud. He had-, did it really happen? It felt almost like he’d been dreaming, please let it just be a dream. A monster lived inside of him, he could feel it stirring sluggishly in his veins and panicked. The wolf whimpered, struggling in Stiles’s arms and trying to push him away. “You shouldn’t. You need to go. I’m not…get out. Go home, Stiles, this was a mistake!” 

___

This was the Scott he knew, with crafty humor and the sweetest smile, prone to quiet moments that he never wanted anyone to see, and so terrifyingly brave, Stiles was sure it was going to get him hurt one day. It probably already had. Stiles’ best friend had been to blame. Scott was shy at the most surprising times, and so ready to see the worst of what people thought of him, but with the right push, he could light up a room by just being in it. Stiles was crazy for him. If he wasn’t so happy, he might be a little scared. 

"Love you. Love you so much."

Scott would never hurt him. Scott hadn’t hurt him, but Scott did. When he pushed back, Stiles nearly fell of the bed. 

"Scott?" His expression crumbled. Scott sounded so sad, and Stiles couldn’t stop the surge of anger that coursed through him. He’d waited all night. He could take care of Scott, better than anyone else. He wanted him, and Scott wanted him, too. Stiles knew it. Stiles wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t know! 

He held on tighter, pinning the other boy to the bed. They scuffled, but Stiles wouldn’t stop pushing, until he had his boyfriend spread beneath him, trapped under lean muscle and clumsy elbows. Stiles snarled, but he was suddenly terrified. Scott was going to kick him out. It blind-sided him, and it hurt. “Stop!” He yelled, louder than he intended. “Fuck you McCall stop!”

___

Scott snarled back, deeper and angry as he was restrained against the bed. He knew that he could break free, there was a violent strength to him now. “You don’t know,  _Stiles_.” He all but spat the name, baring his teeth. “You have no idea what’s happening, you’re so fucking blind!” There was blood on his hands, actual human blood. He was pretty sure Duncan was dead and he was the one who’d torn the boy apart, there had to be something wrong with him because he remembered enjoying it. Derek had warned him, he was a monster. Stiles could never know, he couldn’t see this part of himself or get dragged into any violent mess and end up like Duncan.

This was his fault, it was all his fault.

He stopped fighting, settling for glaring up at his boyf-…at Stiles. Everything in Scott wanted to apologize and just lean upwards to kiss him until the anger left those bright amber eyes. They could act like it had just been a slip of a stressed tongue, curling together until sleep took them and the sun passed into late afternoon. He wanted that so badly and he’d never get that again. “Let me go.” The words were spoken in a low warning. “This was a mistake. I just wanted a quick fuck, but did you think this was ever going to be more than that? I don’t want complicated, Stiles. I don’t want to love you. Get out and don’t bother coming back.”

___

He never knew that Scott could be so good at drawing blood. Stiles reeled back, gasping for air. He felt foolish. He’d feel worse if he wasn’t so occupied by being so shocked. 

"Bullshit," Stiles spat, but his tone wavered. Scott was the worst liar. He was so convicted now, Stiles didn’t know what to do. Stiles didn’t know how they could be so close but feel like they were on opposite sides of the world. "What the fuck are you doing, McCall?"

Something had to have happened. This wasn’t them. Stiles refused to believe it. He knew how Scott looked at him. He loved the way Scott touched him. They were good for each other. There was no explanation for this, none, most certainly not the one Scott was trying to pass off. His heart lodged in his throat, and Stiles had to look away. Heat pooled across his cheeks, dancing behind his eyes. This was stupid. This was so stupid. 

"What - what happened?" His voice cracked, and Stiles’ face burned with embarrassment. 

___

Scott could hear Stiles’s heart stutter, smell the stress like he could separate out each tangled thread of his emotions. It was too much, he didn’t want to know this much! “Nothing happened.” He put everything he could into lying, meeting Stiles’s eyes with a cold stare. “You really thought this was going to be something serious? You’re such an idiot. You and I never had a chance. We both got something out of it, now it’s done.”

He really was going to be sick. Bile burned the back of his throat and Scott tried so hard not show that his overbright eyes were full of tears. It wasn’t safe to do this until he figured out how what to do with the monster inside of him and the alpha. Derek had tried to warn him that distractions like Stiles would just put everyone in danger, but he’d been so sure he’d be able to control it. “What the fuck am I doing? I’m breaking up with you, I thought that was really obvious. I don’t want to see you anymore, I’m done. Now get the fuck off of me and get out of my house.”

___

Scott could have shoved him off, but this was far more effective. Stiles stumbled to his feet. He’d held on hard enough to leave bruises, but nothing seemed to mar Scott’s skin. It was like nothing Stiles could do could touch him, and that was fucking terrifying. Stiles didn’t know how he could have gotten something so wrong.

"Really, McCall? You rode my dick like you couldn’t get enough." Stiles grabbed his clothes, pulling on as much as he could in the span of five seconds. He just needed to get out of the room. 

This wasn’t Scott. There was no way this was Scott. This couldn’t possibly Scott. That didn’t make anything hurt any less. Stiles nearly tripped over his own feet, rushing out the door, his jacket dragging on the ground and left shoe only half on. He didn’t stop until he was out of the house, struggling to start the Jeep. He missed the ignition switch every time, and fuck. Fuck. How could he have messed up so badly? How could he miss that Scott was such a fucking jackass?

He sat there for a moment, stunned and sorry. He didn’t know what he did wrong. That made it all the worse.

Later that afternoon, a missing person report would go out for Duncan, and later still, the Alpha would have Scott at his heel.

"We only hurt the monsters, Scott." The Alpha claimed. Scott couldn’t understand the perplexities of those lies.

___

Doing the right thing was impossible when you couldn’t tell what it was anymore. Pushing Stiles away would save him, it had to be the right decision, but Scott felt hollow. Sleep was a long time in coming and restless when he kept reaching for something that wasn’t there. How could he have gotten so used to the feeling of someone’s body tangled around his own? There was nothing left to hold on to, that tether that kept him connected back to humanity cut by his own hand and when the alpha called, Scott grasped desperately at any lifeline he was offered to keep from drowning.

The alpha promised they were doing the right thing and Scott tried to believe him. They were monsters, killers. They’d murdered children and this was only a way to right a wrong that had been overlooked. If they didn’t stop them, then others would get hurt and all he wanted to help. The man would murmur lies that sounded so much like truth, make him feel stronger than he’d ever been before and Scott would have done anything for that approval and the way the alpha’s voice held actual pride. It wasn’t until he was alone, washing the bus driver’s blood from his hands that he felt any doubt. He watched the water run red as it circled the drain and couldn’t let himself waver or he’d start screaming.

When the alpha would stroke a clawed hand through his hair and promise that he’d be strong enough that no one would ever hurt him or ignore him again, Scott shuddered and surrendered.

At school, Scott started to wield his newfound popularity like a weapon, learning his lessons well. Those who hurt others deserved to be punished and he was powerful enough to take them all apart. It was an addictive feeling and he  _liked_ it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing collaborative work/RP!
> 
> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics on [tumblr](http://tmautog.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and keep up with this story [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune/TruebornAlpha [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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